


Sieze

by hamish_adler_holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sick Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:40:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2004234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamish_adler_holmes/pseuds/hamish_adler_holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a seizure on the way to the Yard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sieze

John and Sherlock were silent on the way to the Yard.  Lestrade had left ahead of them in his car, and minutes later Sherlock was hailing a cab.  Since then he had not said a word, and John was looking at him nervously.

"You don't think it's Moriarty, do you?"  Sherlock shrugged, looking out the window and putting a hand on his head.  He closed his eyes and for a moment was silent, before he yelled out.  The cab swerved and the driver glanced in the rear view mirror.

"You alright back there, mate?" John didn't answer, his hands going to Sherlock.

Sherlock was holding his head between his hands and gasping in pain.  "Sherlock!" John tried prying his hands away from his head but with no success.  "Nevermind the Yard, take us to the hospital.  Please, quickly!"  He returned his attention to Sherlock, who was now letting out a strange keening noise that was fading away.  He tried calling his name again but to no avail, and now Sherlock was twitching violently.  John felt tears prick in the back of his eyes and took calming breaths.  He was a doctor, he could handle this.  He turned Sherlock so he was on his side, his head in John's lap, and held the mans shaking his between his own hands.  "Sherlock, if you can hear me, breathe.  Take deep breaths, I know it hurts, I know.  But please, just breathe."

Sherlock's breathing was shallow and harsh, and his eyes were rolling back.  John's heart was beating so fast he thought he was going to collapse, but luckily they pulled up in front of the hospital.  John dragged Sherlock from the back seat and with help from the cabbie, into the hospital.  He called for a nurse, and one rushed over.  She saw Sherlock and gasped before calling for more help, and soon a team was loading Sherlock onto a stretcher and wheeling him away.  John thanked the cabbie, handing him money without even seeing how much and ran off after the nurses, but he was stopped at the door.

"I'm sorry, sir, we need to take your husband in for some tests, but you should be able to see him in a few moments.  Please go take a seat."  John didn't even deny his relationship to Sherlock, just took a deep breath and crossed his arms.  

"I know you're just doing your job, but I am not leaving him.  I'm a doctor, I know how these things work.  I won't be in the way, and I need to provide you with information about his medical history.  He has a history of..."  He cleared his throat and looked at the nurse.  "Let me in."

She seemed to pick up on what John didn't say, and nodded, gesturing for him to follow her.  With a small smile for himself, he strode behind her and they entered the room where Sherlock was laying unconscious on the bed.  John's heart nearly broke in two to see Sherlock there, with tubes in his arms and hooked up to a heart monitor.  This was always a fear of his, Sherlock being injured on a case and having to be this way, so broken and vulnerable.  He braced himself and walked closer.

The doctor started asking him questions, like if he had any history of seizures.  John shook his head, looking down at Sherlock with a sudden idea that he really hoped he was wrong about.

"He's got a history of drug use.  He may have...tried some again."  He closed his eyes and heard the doctors whispering.  Suddenly he couldn't be there and he ran off, into the waiting room.  He gripped the corner of the wall and reached into his pocket to call Mycroft.  He found himself in a chair moments later, and Mycroft strode in.  He shot John a look of pure fury, one that almost flattened John against his chair, then made his way towards Sherlock's room.  He ignored all protests from doctors as he went by, shooting them the same burning look.  He disappeared down the hall and John sank lower in his chair, closing his eyes.

\--

Moments later a nurse bustled in, finding John and tapping his arm.  His eyes shot open and he stood, almost knocking the man in the head.  "Sherlock?"

The nurse nodded.  "Yes, Mr. Watson, Sherlock will be fine.  It seems he did use drugs..." his voice faded away as John felt his legs buckle underneath him.  "Mr. Watson?  Mr. Watson, Sherlock is fine, your husband is fine.  I just want you to know.  You can come see him, he's awake."

John nodded and followed the nurse.

\--

When he walked in to the room, Sherlock and Mycroft were just staring at each other.  He had expected a heated argument, but all he saw was disappointment in the older Holmes' eyes.  He looked once at John before leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.

John took a deep breath and moved closer to Sherlock's bed.  "Sherlock-"

"Yes, John, I took the drugs.  I shot up, whatever you want to call it, I screwed up."  He couldn't see to look at John, and was staring at his hands.  "I know you're disappointed in me."

John felt a rush of affection for Sherlock and he covered Sherlock's hands with his own.  "Sherlock, please look at me."  He didn't continue until the grey eyes met his.  "Now, listen to me.  Yes, you're right.  I'm disappointed, but not because you used again.  I'm disappointed in myself, for not seeing.  Why didn't I see that you were struggling?"  He shook his head.  "You should have told me, Sherlock.  I'm not as clever as you are."

Sherlock stared intently at John.  "John Watson, don't you  _dare_ blame yourself for this.  I bought them and I thought they would help me in the case.  I thought they would help me focus, but something went wrong, I don't know what."  He blinked and a tear fell.  "I am so sorry I scared you that way."

John sighed and leaned his forehead against Sherlock's.  "They all think you're my husband."

Sherlock chuckled.  "Have you told them otherwise?"

John shook his head, earning himself another laugh.  "At this point there really is no reason.  Let them believe what they want, I'm just happy that you're okay."  He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Sherlock's lips, then jerked back.  The two men locked eyes and John felt a blush creep up his cheeks.  It was silent for a moment before Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Maybe I should get into hospital more often."

John punched him and smiled before leaning in for another kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have questions or feel like seeing me ramble on for ages about Johnlock then follow me on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/johnxlock) x


End file.
